Trigger warnings; Implied separation anxiety.

Another short chapter.

Sorry.

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

Killian sat on deck, staring off at the sky with a smile on his face.

On one side sat Harriet, leaning into him reading a book, and on another sat Cj, drawing on a piece of paper.

And in his lap, laid his middle child and only son, Harry. Who had finally succumbed to his exhaustion after an hour of climbing all over him.

He felt like he could sit like this for days, with just him and his children, and not regret a single moment of it. He had missed them more than he had thought was possible in the short time he had been gone and was not eager to repeat the experience any time soon.

In fact, Killian thought as Harry shifted in his lap, that he might not ever leave them again. Because why would he do something like that, when it only served to make all four of them miserable?

"Hey daddy?" Harriet asked, looking up from her book and breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Yes Darling?" He replied, absentmindedly running his fingers through Harry's tangled hair.

"Where are we going?" Harriet was always curious about the world around them. She always wanted to know the answer to that question. To every question. And Killian loved answering them, even if he didn't really know the answer himself.

And this time was no different.

"We're going to the realm without magic. To a place called Storybrooke."